This is Goodbye
by Cross77
Summary: Lincoln Campbell did not like Grant Ward very much. Grant felt the same way about Lincoln. The two of them are trapped together in a Hydra base, something that's not high on either of their to-do lists. And one of them might not make it out alive.


**AN: This is a one-shot I wrote up while working on my other stories.**

 **A quick note: Kara's quote is actually a quote said by Nelson Mandela.**

 **Prepare for some feels.**

* * *

Lincoln didn't like Skye's ex-boyfriend too much. Besides the fact that Grant Ward was anti-social, he was a traitor who had hurt Coulson's team. He had thrown FitzSimmons into an ocean, although Lincoln would give him points for the fact the med-pod was supposed to float. Of course, like every tragedy, what was supposed to be an attempt to save people ended drastically. He was also slightly unnerving with his hollow eyes that seemed to hold all of the pain in the universe.

Even though Ward had done terrible things, Lincoln still felt bad for him. He wasn't heartless. The man had been abused throughout the majority of his childhood, forced to abuse others, and left in the woods for five years to be manipulated by John Garrett. That had to screw with a person. Badly. Even if he wanted to, there was no way in hell he could hate the guy.

That didn't mean they liked each other though. Lincoln was Skye's current boyfriend and he knew that Grant still harbored feelings for her. It was shown in the way he projected himself. His posture was slumped nowadays instead of the usual specialist rigidness. His face was completely slack. He never smiled, laughed, or frowned. His eyes had turned almost pitch-black and he stared at everything as if he was hundreds of miles away. The two of them hardly ever spoke, and when they did, it was mission related.

In fact, Ward hardly talked to anyone. The only three people that could even be considered something resembling friends were Bobbi, Hunter, and Fitz. It was surprising, really, because he had harmed all three of them severely. Fitz developed speaking problems as a result of losing oxygen for too long. Bobbi had been shot in the shoulder while Hunter had been forced to watch. But the three of them were the first to offer him any hope in regards to ever making friends.

Still, Lincoln knew that Ward would never fully heal when Skye blatantly ignored him. He saw the way it pained the former specialist that she wouldn't even look him in the eye anymore. When he had tried to bring the topic up with his girlfriend, she always shot him down.

Needless to say, being trapped in a Hydra base with Ward was not high on the Inhuman's to-do list.

Which was exactly the predicament he found himself in right now.

"Are you even paying attention?" he asked, gaze resting on his cellmate.

For the first time in an hour, the other man's eyes left the wall and locked with his. "There's nothing to pay attention to."

Lincoln sighed, looking down at the power inhibitors trapping his hands. Struggling against them was futile. They could only be burned off with a highly concentrated laser, which really sucked. If he had his powers, they could be out of this hellhole in a jiffy. "Can't you use some of your specialist voodoo?"

Ward's face remained impassive as he sneered. "Sure, let me just break through a reinforced steel wall with my bare hands."

Sighing again, he tapped his foot impatiently. "Look, I get that you don't like me."

"Understatement," was Ward's mumbled reply.

"Would you just let me finish?" asked Lincoln, exasperation creeping into his voice. After several seconds, Ward gave a curt nod. "I get that you don't like me. I don't like you much either and I think that's mainly because you're Skye's ex. But that doesn't mean I want you to die. We need an actual plan to get out of here because the team is obviously taking their sweet ass time."

"The mission."

"What?" asked Lincoln in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Ward looked at him as if he was an idiot. "The mission? The entire reason we were sent here? You know, blowing up the base?"

"I don't think that's a priority right now. We need to abort the mission and focus on getting ourselves out of here so we can live to see another day."

"You don't just abort a mission," growled Grant. "The mission comes before anything."

"That's nonsense," insisted Lincoln. "Maybe Garrett manipulated you into thinking differently," He noted Grant's small flinch and continued on, "but that's bullshit. I have people I want to get back to and who want me to get back to them. And so do you. So let's get out of here."

"I don't have anyone who'll care like you do," bit back Ward.

 _Ah, the root of the problem._ "Yes you do, Grant. What about Bobbi, Hunter, and Fitz? What will they do if you don't make it?"

The darker-haired man gave him an intense stare. "They might mourn. And then they'll move on and forget me. Just like Skye already has. I'm replaceable and unimportant. But you're right. We need to get out of here, for your sake if anything."

Lincoln let out a breath of relief that Ward agreed with him, but it was followed by an uncertain feeling in the pit of his stomach. The other man had agreed far easier than he thought. "So, you got a plan?"

"We wait."

"Wait, what?"

"We wait. Just trust me."

So, Lincoln did. He leaned back in an attempt to get comfortable while Ward's eyes rested on the metal door that separated them from everything else.

Minutes later, when the door swung open, a man wearing black Kevlar stepped in, a food tray in his hand. He threw it on the ground in front of them. "Eat."

Suddenly, he heard a cracking noise and glanced at Ward's hand, alarmed. His thumb bent out of place as the handcuff slid off. In a split-second, the tray was picked up off the floor and bashed repeatedly into the Hydra agent's head. Lincoln watched in horror as the man's skull caved in, blood flowing from his battered head. The dead body fell to the ground in a lump. The former specialist patted the dead agent down until he found a handgun and pulled it out.

"Let's move."

Lincoln got up numbly to follow Ward. "You…you…"

Ward let out a growl of frustration. "Killed him? Yes, yes I did. I don't really give a shit. Now, if you'd excuse me, I'd like to focus on getting the fuck out of here."

So, they did just that.

They weren't detected once, which Lincoln had to grudgingly thank the specialist's capabilities for. When they reached the exit, Ward nodded to him and opened the door. He stepped out first, turning to ask his teammate what to do next when the door slammed shut behind him.

"Ward?" asked Lincoln, trying to open the door to the Hydra base.

It was locked.

That meant…oh _fuck_ , he locked himself inside to finish the mission.

"WARD! Don't do this!" he shouted, pounding on the closed metal entrance as best he could with restrained hands.

After several more failed attempts, he turned around when he heard a whirring noise. A Quinjet hovered above the ground a few yards away, the ramp lowering. Breaking off into a sprint, he ran straight into Skye's open arms.

"Lincoln, thank God! Are you okay?" she asked, concern and worry seeping into her voice.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine," said Lincoln. "But-"

"Come on, let's have Simmons check you out."

She tried to tug him into the lab.

 _Does she really not notice Grant's not here?_

He pulled back, shaking his head rapidly. "No! Grant is still inside! We have to go back for him!"

They had their differences, sure, but the Inhuman did not want to see the specialist die. Grant deserved to live out his second chance and find happiness again. He deserved years of peace. He deserved to wake up in the morning and go to sleep with a broad smile on his face, just like Lincoln did every day.

He wouldn't have any of that if he was blown to bits inside a Hydra base.

"Grant's still in there?" she asked, her voice growing panicked.

"Yes! We need to help him!"

Coulson, May, and Simmons, the only three others on the jet, stepped out of the cockpit.

"Simmons, get Lincoln treated. May, with me. We're going to get our teammate back," stated Coulson, a rough edge to his voice.

The second Coulson and May stepped off the ramp, the entire Hydra base exploded into flames.

Lincoln watched the bright red flames dance upwards into the sky, sadness and shock washing over him. Grant couldn't be dead, he just couldn't.

"NO!" shouted Coulson, running forward while yelling commands at May. "Search every inch of this fucking place! Grant's got to be alive! He has to be!"

He turned to face his girlfriend, who stared blankly at the remains of the Hydra base.

Hours later, Coulson and May returned with news.

Grant Douglas Ward was pronounced dead.

* * *

After his small funeral, which just consisted of the team, Lincoln found himself making daily visits to the deceased agent's grave. He would stand there, hands in his pockets and head down as he spoke. Maybe it was stupid to talk to nothing, but it was something he did anyway. He _needed_ to make these visits to the cemetery for a reason he could not fully explain.

"She's not getting any better, you know," whispered Lincoln.

Silence greeted him.

"I think…I think she partially blames herself. You loved her and she could barely look at you anymore. And then, you had to go be a hero, Grant. You just had to, because you thought you had something to prove. Everything's just fucking falling apart without you. Nobody can go a week without coming to visit you. Skye breaks down every time a random S.H.I.E.L.D. agent mentions your name. Coulson lashes out at anyone who calls you a traitor. Hunter and Fitz don't play board games anymore. Bobbi refuses to clean out your room. Jemma never smiles anymore. May's practically gone completely silent. The truth is, no matter how screwed up your relationship with everyone was, you were our glue, Grant. Who knew you were the one thing keeping us from falling apart?"

His jacket flapped open as the breeze grew more intense.

"Anyway, I think you'd be happy to know that we buried you next to Kara. I don't know if there's a heaven or some shit like that. But, wherever you two are, I hope you guys are finally at peace."

He glanced at the tombstone to the left.

 _Kara Lynn Palamas_

 _March 25_ _th_ _, 1986 – May 12_ _th_ _, 2015_

" _I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear."_

Tearing his eyes away from it, he cast a sorrowful look toward Grant's gravestone.

 _Grant Douglas Ward_

 _January 7_ _th_ _, 1983 – August 15_ _th_ _, 2015_

" _In the end, he was the true hero. The one to make the sacrifice play. And he will never be forgotten."_


End file.
